of features, a clear eye,
a grave manner.

Meanwhile the boat had touched the ground. Gilliatt passed the cable
through the mooring-ring, then turned and perceived the young man
holding out a sovereign in a very white hand.

Gilliatt moved the hand gently away.

There was a pause. The young man was the first to break the silence.

"You have saved me from death."

"Perhaps," replied Gilliatt.

The moorings were made fast, and they went ashore.

The stranger continued--

"I owe you my life, sir."

"No matter."

This reply from Gilliatt was again followed by a pause.

"Do you belong to this parish?"

"No," replied Gilliatt.

"To what parish, then?"

Gilliatt lifted up his right hand, pointed to the sky, and said--

"To that yonder."

The young man bowed, and left him.

After walking a few paces, the stranger stopped, felt in his pocket,
drew out a book, and returning towards Gilliatt, offered it to him.

"Permit me to make you a present of this."

Gilliatt took the volume.

It was a Bible.

An instant after, Gilliatt, leaning upon the parapet, was following the
young man with his eyes as he turned the angle of the path which led to
St. Sampson.

By little and little he lowered his gaze, forgot all about the
stranger--knew no more whether the "Gild-Holm-'Ur" existed. Everything
disappeared before him in the bottomless depth of a reverie.

There was one abyss which swallowed up all his thought. This was
Deruchette.

A voice calling him, aroused him from this dream.

"Ho there, Gilliatt!"

He recognised the voice and looked up.

"What is the matter, Sieur Landoys?"

It was, in fact, Sieur Landoys, who was passing along the road about one
hundred paces from the Bu de la Rue in his phaeton, drawn by one little
horse. He had stopped to hail Gilliatt, but he seemed hurried.

"There is news, Gilliatt."

"Where is that?"

"At the Bravees."

"What is it?"

"I am too far off to tell you the story."

Gilliatt shuddered.

"Is Miss Deruchette going to be married?"

"No; but she had better look out for a husband."

"What do you mean?"

"Go up to the house, and you will learn."

And Sieur Landoys whipped on his horse.

BOOK V

THE REVOLVER

I

CONVERSATIONS AT THE JEAN AUBERGE

Sieur Clubin was a man who bided his time. He was short in stature, and
his complexion was yellow. He had the strength of a bull. His sea life
had not tanned his skin; his flesh had a sa